


Down In a Hole

by CastorGalaxy



Series: Switches Bitches [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), BDSM, Bondage, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), D/s, Double Penetration, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kink Meme, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, No beta we fall like Crowley, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shibari, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Spanking, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Vaginal Fisting, Vaginal Sex, woke: the porn IS the plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastorGalaxy/pseuds/CastorGalaxy
Summary: Forgive me, Almighty, for I have sinned.“Did you say something?” Crowley asked, bringing the glass to his lips.“N-no. Of course not,” Aziraphale lied, a tight smile on his face.Suddenly, a beam of light fell on the both of them, and the soft, musical voice of God spoke. “He said he’s a sinner, Crowley. He’s been a bad boy. You should punish him.”Aziraphale and Crowley lock eyes, tension now so thick you could cut it with a knife. “What?” They both stutter out, absolutely flabbergasted.“You heard me.” God said, before the light disappeared.Crowley grinned from ear to ear before draining his glass of wine. “Well, you heard the Almighty.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This fic has been a blast to write even if I struggle with Top/Dom Crowley.  
The name of the fic is the song I listened to on repeat while writing this filth(Down In a Hole by Alice in Chains). But I love you by Billie Eilish was for the fluff at the end (which came out of nowhere and I just went with it.)  
Thanks for reading!

Aziraphale had to literally bite back a groan. Crowley had shown up for just a casual night in for wine and food, and had actually dressed casually-something they didn’t typically do. Wearing a tight gray crop top and well-worn, ripped, black shorts, Aziraphale had never seen so much of Crowley’s skin exposed.

Since saving the world he had decided to grow his hair back out, paint his nails, and wear more jewelry. His long crimson hair hung past his shoulders in perfect waves and he had completely forgone the glasses, revealing his serpent eyes to be framed with smokey eyeshadow and liner.

“Hullo, angel,” he said with a smirk, grabbing a glass of wine from the table before stretching across an armchair in a way that could only be comfortable for him. “It’s too damn hot today.”

Aziraphale drank in the sight of him, this new style absolutely vulgar and provocative, utterly wrecking the angel. He wanted to grab onto those hips first with his hands and then his mouth-

Closing his eyes, he began to pray, _Forgive me, Almighty, for I have sinned._

“Did you say something?” Crowley asked, bringing the glass to his lips.

“N-no. Of course not,” Aziraphale lied, a tight smile on his face.

Suddenly, a beam of light fell on the both of them, and the soft, musical voice of God spoke. “He said he’s a sinner, Crowley. He’s been a _bad boy._ You should _punish_ him.”

Aziraphale and Crowley lock eyes, tension now so thick you could cut it with a knife. “What?” They both stutter out, absolutely flabbergasted.

“You heard me.” God said, before the light disappeared.

Crowley grinned from ear to ear before draining his glass of wine. “Well, you heard the Almighty.” Slowly he rose to his feet, walking the few steps to stand by where Aziraphale sat, glued to his chair. He couldn’t seem to find his voice, looking into his wine glass as if the dark red liquid held the answers.

Long fingers twist in white blond curls before pulling sharply, forcing the angel to look up. “On your knees, Aziraphale.”

He gasped, mouth falling open as he looked up at the demon who was taking the wine glass from his hands to put it on the coffee table. The angel still felt like he couldn’t move even though he wanted to. Crowley’s grin didn’t falter as he used his grip on the angel as leverage, forcing him to his knees.

“Now, that’s better,” he purrs, “So, tell me, what was so naughty that God herself asked me to punish you?”

Aziraphale _whines_, utterly ashamed of the sound, but can’t take it back. He doesn’t have an answer either. All he was thinking about was attacking Crowley-

A loud smack echoes in the quiet space, both totally unbelieving at what just happened. Crowley had hit Aziraphale right across the face with his open palm. Aziraphale found it much more shocking than painful, and absolutely arousing. This was a whole new side to the demon.

“Speak,” Crowley commands, releasing his grip from the angel’s hair.

“I-I-“ he stammers, mouth having gone dry. He swallows before trying again, “I was thinking about you.”

“Go on.” Crowley had begun to circle him.

“I-er, I like your clothes tonight.” Silence from the snake stalking his prey. “I was thinking about how good your hips looked.” Aziraphale blushed.

“Oh?” Finally something piqued his interest. “Thinking impure thoughts about a demon? No wonder the Almighty thinks you deserve to be punished.” He grabs Aziraphale by the jaw, leaning down so their faces are inches apart. “What about me tempts you?” Crowley leans in, lips almost touching his ear.

“Ahh-“ the angel tries to focus because at this moment everything about Crowley is tempting. “Your eyes. Your hips-that bloody saunter. Your hair. Your legs. Your voice.” He inhales sharply before speaking again. “Yo-Your tongue.”

A low chuckle right in his ear before Crowley flicks out said tongue to trace the shell of Aziraphale’s ear. “What about it?” his voice a musky whisper. Aziraphale whines again, turning his head to capture the demon’s mouth with his own.

For a moment, Crowley forgets his task and acquiesces the angel, dipping his dexterous tongue inside his mouth. Then he breaks away. “Tell me.” He commands.

The angel swallows, taking a deep shuddering breath. “I imagine you’re quite good with it.”

Another chuckle and Crowley backs away. Aziraphale thinks about following him, but decides that God is right. He does deserve punishment. Possibly, even _wants _it. So, he watches Crowley saunter away, appreciating the swing of his hips.

The demon pours himself another glass of wine before walking back to his chair and sprawling out. “Whatever am I going to do with you?” He drawls before taking a long drink. “Should I force you to confess your sins and tell me every time you’ve thought about me like this? Or should I just punish you as I see fit?”

Aziraphale cannot breathe and so he takes off his bowtie, undoing his collar. Crowley was right. It’s too damn hot.

“I think you’re supposed to decide,” Aziraphale says, almost quiet enough to be a whisper.

Crowley hums before drinking again. “Strip for me, angel.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Aziraphale says, shocked.

“I’d like to see you naked. And I would like _you_ to take your clothes off. Now.” Crowley still hasn’t moved, but his voice has changed from seductive to dominating.

So, the angel begins unbuttoning his waistcoat-having forgone his jacket earlier due to the heat. He folds it and sets it down gently on the chair he had been sitting in. Then his button down shirt. He’s getting nervous now. He knows he’s soft. But the way Crowley’s eyes are fixated on him, clutching his wine glass for dear life, spurs him on, undoing his trousers.

“May I stand? To-er-get these off properly?” Aziraphale asks. He wants to do this right. Wants to obey. Wants to be _good_.

Crowley licks his lips, mouth suddenly gone dry. He wondered if he was really cut out for this. But apparently God did, so he knew he must be. “Yesss,” he hisses.

The angel stands and decides to just ‘rip the band aid off’ so to speak, taking off his pants and trousers simultaneously. He steps out of them and then removes his shoes and socks, taking care to put everything neatly in its place on the chair. Again he drops to his knees, letting his head fall as well.

“Look at me,” the demon commands almost instantly. Aziraphale obeys, and any worry he may have still felt was gone. Crowley’s face full of utter abandon as he speaks, “You’re beautiful, angel.” He seems to regain some of his composure before continuing. “Are you ready for your punishment?”

Their eye contact is intense, lust and longing and love crashing from one to the other.

“Yes,” Aziraphale says, much more confidently than he feels, but fueled by the energy flow.

Crowley slowly stands after draining his second glass of wine, now even hotter than before. He puts down the wine glass and pulls off his shirt.

Aziraphale lets out a little gasp as he watches Crowley stretch, more skin being revealed, hips prodding out a bit more. He was all angles and sharpness to his own curves and softness. That being said, neither of them were soft at this moment.

The demon pauses for a moment before unbuckling his belt, drawing it out by the head of the snake. He then sits back in the chair, curling the belt in half, making it snap, then pointing to his knee. “Come here.”

Aziraphale obeys, getting up and walking across the room, never breaking eye-contact with the demon. He stands beside him and Crowley, softly caresses the angel’s lower back before pushing him forward to bend over his lap.

Once they’ve settled, Crowley moves his hand to caress Aziraphale’s arse, sighing as he squeezes, eliciting a gasp from the angel. “Before we begin, I think we should have some rules.” He drawls, while sliding his palm up Aziraphale’s spine. “First, your safewords are like a traffic light. Green means ‘Go ahead’, Yellow means ‘Wait a moment, think it through’, and Red means ‘Stop.’ Understood?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale breathes, trying to find something to focus on, and instead decides to close his eyes, and give himself over to Crowley.

“Good,” he says, withdrawing his hand to snap the belt again. “Second, you will not rut against me like a whore. You will get off when I say you can get off.” A silent pause. Aziraphale is not sure he is supposed to speak. “Third,” Crowley continues, “I want to hear you. Every moan, every confession, every lustful thing that pops into your mind.” His hand has now found its way to twist long fingers into blond curls, pulling sharply to look Aziraphale in the eyes again, both full of carnal desire.

Aziraphale obeys, letting out a low groan, pain mixing deliciously with pleasure. “I will do whatever you want,” he breathes, because somehow, somewhere he _has_ to obey. He has to tell Crowley, “I want to be good for you.”

Crowley fucking chokes, but quickly recovers, deciding that particular comment was as invitation as any. He draws his hand back and lands it perfectly on Aziraphale’s arse, the loud smack ringing in the room. But it is utterly drowned out by Aziraphale’s moan. Crowley smacks the other cheek to cover his own moan. While there is the pretence that they are both following orders-from the Almighty herself nonetheless-there is no denial that the pleasure is taking over.

When Aziraphale notices Crowley’s arousal under his stomach, he lets out another moan. His own erection tucked between Crowley’s thigh and stomach. His back arcs without his control as the demon smacks his arse again with his hand. He repeats the action a few more times before the belt snaps again.

Crowley raises the belt in his hand, ready to strike. “Are you ready for your punishment, Aziraphale?”

The angel shudders, and nods his head. “Yes, Master.”

“Fuck,” Crowley moans lowly before releasing, the strike landing perfectly with a loud crack. Aziraphale moans beneath him, pushing back into the pain. He _wants_ it. The thought alone makes the demon more aroused, unfurling the belt to strike again. He makes sure to give both sides of his buttocks equal treatment, red welts rising to the surface of alabaster skin.

After counting internally to 20, he stops the lashes, letting the belt drop to the floor and wrapping Aziraphale in his embrace. Said angel is positively shaking from the immense pain and pleasure he was feeling. Without even thinking he feels his hips jerk against Crowley’s lap and he curses, realizing his mistake immediately.

Crowley _growls_. “You really are a very naughty boy.” The demon pushes Aziraphale off him and he falls to the floor harshly. “Can’t even obey simple rules. Even after a lashing. Seems I’m going to need to _make you_ obey.” He summons three bundles of silk rope, one gold, one ivory, and one silver. “On your knees, angel. Now.”

A sudden snap and there was a soft pillow under the angel where he knelt. “You’re going to be there for a while.” Crowley drawled before unravelling the silver rope first. He grabbed Aziraphale this way and that, moving his arms behind his back, tying them together, then tying his upper arms down to his chest. Once done, Aziraphale could not move his entire upper body aside his neck. Crowley dragged him up to his feet by the rope on the centre of his chest, tightening his bonds everywhere.

Before continuing, Crowley takes a moment to eyes his prey, pacing a circle around the angel, approving his own handiwork with the rope. As he did so he started to unravel the ivory rope. “Colour?” He asks, checking in.

“Green,” Aziraphale responds with no hesitation, in fact he’s excited to see what the demon has in store for him next.

Crowley hums, clearly contemplating that very thing. “I can’t decide how I want you.” He grabs the angel by his jaw, looking at him all over, drinking him in. Without another word he begins his work again, lacing the ivory into the silver, beginning the knot work down Aziraphale’s thighs, careful not to even so much as brush his cock as he worked.

He shudders under the demon’s touches, each tug of a knot sending shockwaves of pleasure everywhere. Crowley pushes him back to his knees once his legs were totally bound, tying the two pieces together with the gold rope. There was still quite a bit of length of rope left and it gives Crowley a _wicked_ idea.

The demon snaps his fingers with an absolutely devilish grin on his face. Above them, where the ceiling was low, several hooks appeared on a beam. Crowley easily slots the rope through and begins working again, threading the gold rope throughout the knots all over Aziraphale’s body. With another miracle, the angel rises into the air, suspended by the ropes.

Aziraphale gasps. Crowley had literally strung him up like some kind of decoration for his own amusement. And for the angel’s punishment.

“Colour, angel?”

“So, green,” he all but moans, completely at the other’s mercy.

“You’re being so good for me now. Not that you have a choice.” Crowley pets Aziraphale’s hair, suspended at the perfect height to be level with his crotch. He presses his hips forward, grinding his clothed erection against the angel’s cheek. “I can do whatever I want with you and you just have to take it.”

“Yes, please.” Aziraphale half whispers half moans.

Crowley can’t take it anymore. Another snap and his own clothes are miracled next to the angel’s. “Open your mouth,” He commands and Aziraphale obeys, taking the demon’s cock into his mouth eagerly, swirling his tongue, and licking the underside as he pushes inside.

Completely at the demon’s mercy, Aziraphale can only relax his throat, letting Crowley set the pace. He’s going slow, savouring every thrust into that perfect pink mouth. The angel moans when he hits the back of his throat, forcing him to take more. They both wonder if they would come right there, like this, giving and taking each other with sublime pleasure.

It feels like an eternity, the pace gradually increasing as the demon holds onto control as long as he can, forcing the angel to take him, making sure this will _hurt_ later. It was punishment after all. While it was clear by his profusely leaking cock that Aziraphale liked what was happening, he had been left completely untouched, nothing but a plaything for the demon to defile.

A moan is the only warning given to either of them before Crowley is coming, pressing his cock deep in his throat, spilling inside him. Aziraphale swallows every drop.

Crowley withdraws completely, stepping away from the angel to sprawl in the arm chair once more.

The angel whines, so close to begging, but refrains. If he is nothing but a toy tonight then he will be a good toy. He lets his body relax into the tight embrace of the ropes in total submission.

“Fuuucck,” Crowley moans, watching the angel with utter abandon. “Have you learned your lesson, angel?”

Aziraphale really wants to lie. He really does. But he groans and says, truthfully, “No, I lust for you even more now, demon. And I am at your mercy, with pleasure.” His voice sounds wrecked because he is. The angel has never felt more turned on in his life.

A long moment passes between them. Crowley is trying to keep his cool and failing, choosing his next words wisely. “You know what I want, Aziraphale? I want to be inside you.” Seemed to be the perfect thing to say.

The sound that rings through the air-something between a moan and a whine-and Aziraphale is completely untethered. “Yes, please, Crowley, I need you!”

The snap that echoes in response, barely covers Crowley’s growl, releasing Aziraphale from his bindings, setting him gently on his feet. In a flash, the demon is on him, pushing him back against the wall. Crowley isn’t certain when his fangs had come out, but they are now, and he’s biting gently down Aziraphale’s neck, careful not to draw blood. Yet.

“Bedroom. Now.” The demon is hardly able to speak, desire taking over all his senses, but the angel takes his hand and leads him down a corridor and through a door he’s somehow never seen before. Inside is a room that is filled with ancient tomes, too precious to be on display in the shop. In the centre an old four poster bed with tartan sheets and duvet.

Pulled by an invisible force, they embrace each other at the entryway, exchanging sloppy kisses and groping each other as they make their way to the bed. Crowley pushes Aziraphale down onto the mattress, crawling over him, licking a long stripe up his neck before deciding on a spot to sink his teeth into. This time he wants to draw blood, lapping it up. Aziraphale is too far gone to do anything but moan and focus on not grinding into the demon. He had learned his lesson the first time.

“Please, Crowley,” He moans, whole body shaking with effort.

“Please, what, angel?” Crowley murmurs against his skin, kissing the angry red mark softly.

“Touch me. I need you to touch me.” Heat flushes in his face, but he doesn’t care. He has gone untouched for too long.

Crowley smirks, a minor miracle slicking up his fingers as he moves to touch the angel’s opening, circling the tight hole slowly before pressing inside.

“Fuck,” the angel curses, “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” Crowley responds, moving the digit inside the other in small circles, grazing that spot inside him lightly with his long finger. “But you don’t get what you want tonight. You’re being punished. So, you will come untouched on my cock.”

Aziraphale whimpers and Crowley adds a second finger. “I don’t know if I can.”

“You _will_.” The demon commands, “You want to obey me, right? Be so good for me? You’ve been so good for me.” Each phrase spoken between kisses all over the angel’s neck and shoulders and chest. “When I tell you to come, you will come.” With the last phrase he curls his fingers just so, rubbing that spot perfectly.

“Ooooohh ok. Then please,” Aziraphale is unhinged, obeying the rule of unfiltered vocal’s for his demon, “Please, I need you inside me. Please, I want to grind against you so bad, but I want to be good. Help me be good for you-“

He’s cut off by Crowley adding a third finger, only waiting a moment to allow the angel to adjust, before fucking him with his fingers.

“Yes!” Aziraphale almost shouts, “I’m ready for you, please. Please!” The last word is high pitched as those perfect fingers slam against that sweet spot.

Crowley groans, and withdraws his hand, eliciting another whimper for Aziraphale. He sits up, spreading lube on his cock, looking down at his angel. He grabs those wondrously thick thighs and presses them up to Aziraphale’s chest, exposing that taut hole already slick from their preparations and begins to press in at an agonizingly slow pace. At this point, the torture is mutual.

Fingers dig into the soft flesh of those deliciously thick thighs, as Crowley attempts to keep it slow, each thrust powerful and deliberate, making sure the angel feels good. He can’t stop himself from leaning forward and biting into the skin of his inner thigh, pace already increasing.

“Crowley, you feel so good inside me. Please, just fuck me. Right. There. Please. I want to come make me come,” Aziraphale isn’t even sure if that is even his own voice, his mind far away as his body trembles. He’s so close now. He almost sobs with how much he wants to have contact on his painfully hard cock, but he wants to be good for Crowley so badly it doesn’t matter.

“Keep talking like that angel,” Crowley says between thrusts and bites, “Tell me how badly you want this. Maybe I’ll let you touch that gorgeous cock of yours.”

“Oh, yes please! Please.” His voice is choked off by a sob as Crowley is now thoroughly pounding his prostate. “I’m going to come from just your cock. Just like you want. I love you.” With that the angel’s whole body tenses as he orgasms, head thrown back as he moans Crowley’s name like a mantra.

The demon follows soon after, the tight heat clenching around him, orgasm drawn out of him by Aziraphale’s voice. _I love you. _He shudders, grinding his hips one last time with a groan before rolling off the angel.

Aziraphale doesn’t let him get too far away, turning on his side, putting his head and hand on his chest, kissing softly up to his neck. He feels drunk and definitely not repentant of his actions. In fact, he’s wondering how soon would he get to do this again. But Crowley is tense. That declaration of love totally shaking him.

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asks between kisses, “I thought I was the one who was supposed to get after care?”

“Right, sorry,” Crowley response, scooping the angel up in his arms, gently caressing him with his hands, “Just a bit in my own mind.”

The angel sighs, nuzzling into Crowley’s neck, kissing just below his ear. “Is it because I said I love you?” A long silence is the only answer he gets aside the demon inhaling sharply and kissing his hair, hands still touching him tenderly. “Darling, you must have known how I feel before now. Why I wanted to be good for you. This is more than simple lust.”

Still silence, but Crowley’s movements stutter, arms tightening around the angel.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asks, “Please say something.”

“Jus’ wasn’t expect that, from this, y’know?” he murmurs into the soft white blond curls.

The angel doesn’t want to push it, knowing Crowley will tell him eventually, so instead he pulls him into a kiss filled with all the love he feels, telling him how much he is loved and safe. When they break apart and lock eyes, the love is clearly written all over both of their faces. 

“Right, aftercare.” Crowley murmurs, a blush spreading from his ears down his neck. Aziraphale protests when he tries to sit up. “I’m not going anywhere. Just going to clean you up.” He snaps his fingers and a bowl with warm water and a soft cloth appears.

As the demon works at gently wiping the come off of the angel, those wordless emotions threaten to overtake him. He does love his angel. He loves him in every way. He decides that he should stop being so afraid and let himself feel. “I love you, Aziraphale.” Crowley whispers and then snaps the items away after he finishes cleaning the angel.

"I know," was the only reply Aziraphale could muster without bursting into happy tears. He grabs Crowley, pulling him down so they can hold each other, kissing each other wherever their lips can reach, totally at peace.


	2. Heaven Inside You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo this is purely indulgent smut. You're welcome. I was not originally going to post a second chapter but here we are. Also I'm going to write a companion piece to this one in which Aziraphale returns the favor so stay tuned folks, and thanks for reading.

A week passed without seeing each other. Aziraphale was restless. All he could think about were the events of that night, unable to even ponder opening up his shop. He waited. Hoping one day Crowley would saunter into the shop and invite him out for a meal, or a play, or just simply ravish him as he so deeply desired. Anything. For whatever reason, he was afraid of making the first move, allowing the demon space if he needed it.

Eventually enough was enough. One could only hold out so long, after all.

The angel decided to go around his flat, barely able to contain himself as he ventured across the city. He was thankful the hot weather had decided to break way to autumn finally, walking the majority of the way over, lost in lustful thoughts. Aziraphale missed Crowley deeply on every level, but this carnal fascination was so new and alluring. How long had he waited for this? Too long to let the demon ruin it with overthinking.

He briefly wondered if that was what _he _was doing, but then suddenly found himself outside his destination. With a deep shuddering breath he pressed onward, the building allowing him in without needing to be buzzed in.

The flat was dark, as though all the curtains were drawn-which was mostly true, aside the room with the plants. He found the demon sound asleep in his bed. _Of course,_ Aziraphale thought. He rolled his eyes before opening the curtains with a snap, approaching Crowley’s sleeping form.

“Wake up, Crowley,” He cooed into his ear, hand moving from shoulder to lower back then back up, “I miss you, Crowley. Wake up, please.” The demon continued to sleep, but rolled from his side to his back towards Aziraphale.

The angel smiled. Crowley looked so peaceful in his sleep, despite having fallen asleep with his glasses on-which Aziraphale found absolutely adorable. It was impressive that he had somehow gotten completely naked but had forgotten the glasses. Aziraphale chuckled before peppering the demon’s face with kisses and whispering, “Please, wake up. I need you so _badly_, Crowley. I can’t stop thinking about you.” His kisses reach his jaw which he nips at, trying to be gentle, but also starting to get frustrated. The angel groans as he presses a kiss just below the demon’s ear. “You’ve _wrecked _me, Crowley. My demon. My love. Please, wake up.”

Crowley awoke when Aziraphale groaned in his ear. He reached up to take off his glasses and the angel sat up, beaming.

“Crowley!” he says sweetly before grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him senseless.

The demon is shocked for all of two seconds before his eyes flutter shut and he begins moving his lips against Aziraphale’s, tongue slipping out to taste. They moan simultaneously when their tongues meet, tangling and twirling in a dance, bringing their bodies closer together as Aziraphale’s hands move to twist in Crowley’s long red hair, and said demon’s hands wrap around the angel’s waist.

They break away eventually and Crowley is smirking. “Miss me, angel?” he purrs, voice still rough from sleeping so long.

Aziraphale whines, moving to straddle Crowley, sure to let the demon feel exactly how much he missed him. “What do you think? You’ve been asleep for a week.”

Crowley inhales sharply when he feels the angel’s hard-on against his hip, but keeps his cool. “A week’s not much time. Not in comparison to 50 years.”

The reference to Crowley’s ‘nap’ in the 19th century only made the angel growl. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. This last week has been torture enough, Crowley.”

Crowley just grins that same devilish grin he had used when he had decided to string Aziraphale up in their last rendezvous. “Who says you’re in charge here, angel?” The demon moves a hand up the cup Aziraphale’s face, thumb stroking tenderly. The angel’s eyes shut softly as he leans into the touch. “Don’t you want to be good for me?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale whispers, eyes still shut, but he can’t deny what the demon’s words are doing to him.

“Good boy,” Crowley responds, patting his cheek kindly.

The angel literally shudders at those words, skin prickling like he’s been shocked.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you, angel?” Crowley asks, mischief clear in his tone. Aziraphale nods, opening his eyes, sapphire meeting citrine. “Such a good boy.” He says again and the angel responds exactly the same, more intensely even, his whole body practically shaking from the praise.

“Just for you, Master,” Aziraphale replies, remembering just how much Crowley had liked hearing that last time.

Sure enough, the demon’s smile falters and he hisses, forked tongue poking through fangs that had definitely not been there a moment before. He takes a moment before speaking, eyes still locked. “You want to be good for me? I want to try something with you.”

“Anything,” Aziraphale promises without hesitation.

Serpent eyes widen for a moment, full of awe that the angel was so eager to please. “I want to see how many times I can make you come.” Crowley is barely able to utter the words, voice hoarse with arousal at the thought of it, at his blind willingness to please, and at the entire situation. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined anything like this. This was his Heaven.

The angel cannot form a response and instead moans, and it takes all his willpower to not grind up against the demon, knowing that would be bad. Already his mind was slipping back into that space where nothing else mattered but being good for Crowley-taking everything he wanted to give him.

“Say something, Aziraphale,” he commands, tone cutting through the haze in the angel’s mind briefly.

“Would that please you, Master?” he says, licking his lips, still looking deeply into the demon’s eyes.

“Yessss,” Crowley hisses, and then another command, “Undresssss for me.” His snake nature was bleeding through, eyes almost terrifyingly fixated on his prey, looking very much like a hunter. This look only deepened as Aziraphale took his time undressing. The demon couldn’t resist leaning forward and biting the angel’s neck once exposed. He didn’t sink his fangs in yet, his bite in perfect balance of not breaking skin and causing pain.

Aziraphale struggles to focus on taking his clothes off, but manages, removing his jacket, waistcoat, bowtie, button-up shirt, and under-shirt while Crowley ravishes his neck. He’s released once his chest is bare and Crowley pushes him away with at first his hand and then his foot. This gives the angel room to remove the rest of his clothes, for once having tossed everything carelessly aside. He looks completely debauched already.

Crowley hums his approval but makes no move towards him. Aziraphale _crawls_ towards the demon, but is stopped again by a foot on his chest. The demon clicks his tongue and hisses. “Why don’t you manifest a pretty little cunt for me first?”

It’s not a command and the angel knows he can say no if he’d like. He doesn’t want to say no though, the very thought actually invigorating him as he complies with the demon’s request.

“Good boy,” Crowley’s voice is absolutely sinful, knowing just how to make the angel flush even deeper. He finally moves towards Aziraphale, who is still on his hands and knees. Long fingers curl into the white blond hair, tugging slightly, tilting the angel’s face up towards him to capture his lips in a loving kiss. Just because he was going to fuck the angel until his mind was blank with nothing but pleasure doesn’t mean he can’t slip in some sweetness. After all, Aziraphale _loves_ sweets.

The languid dance between their lips soon turns to messy and passionate, desire building steadily. Crowley still holds the angel in place by his hair, but his other hand moves down the other’s neck and shoulder and side, grabbing at his waist roughly, nails digging into the soft flesh, eliciting a gasp, effectively breaking the kiss.

In one swift movement, Crowley has flipped them, pinning Aziraphale to the bed with his own body, releasing his grip on his hair and waist to pin him down by his hips. The angel moans loudly and even attempts to move his hips-which is completely futile with how much force Crowley is using to keep him _down._

The demon wastes no time slithering down the other’s body, serpentine tongue leaving a wet trail from neck to navel. He stops to bite sharply at his hip, leaving a dark purple bruise behind and Aziraphale is already shaking. Once that sinfully sublime tongue is on him, he gives himself over to the demon, his body just _melting_ into the mattress as Crowley licks him slowly.

“You taste so fucking good.” He moans the words before returning his mouth to the angel’s delectably wet cunt, forked tongue fucking into him as deep as he can, the taste of him bringing the demon such pleasure. Not to mention the _sounds_. Aziraphale’s moans and sighs and whimpers are wanton and relentless. He withdraws his tongue briefly, “Colour, angel?”

“G-green, Crowley! Oh, please don’t stop.” Aziraphale’s voice is wrecked, so desperate it’s almost a sob. So, the demon continues, determined to claim the first orgasm with nothing but his tongue. He begins a rhythm of fucking him with his tongue until his legs begin to shudder, then moving to suck and flick his clit slowly at first before gaining speed, again waiting for the angel to get close before switching his attention. Eventually the orgasm is ripped from the angel after teetering on the edge for what feels like ages.

Crowley doesn’t give him a chance to recover. He plunges one then two dexterously long fingers inside him, twisting and curling, before sucking his swollen and sensitive clit back into his mouth.

“Oh, _fuck_!” Aziraphale shouts, already feeling his ascent towards another orgasm. His hands had been twisted into the sheets, but now he reaches out for Crowley’s gorgeous, long red hair that he loves so much. “You’re perfect, Crowley. So beautiful. So _good._”

The demon growls, fucking into him with his fingers in earnest now, determined to make the angel incoherent. “I am not good. I’m a demon.”

Aziraphale whines, hands pulling on Crowley’s hair, making the demon gasp. “You feel so good though. Feels so good, my love. Oh-” he’s cut off by Crowley adding another finger and returning his tongue to his clit once more. “Yes! Oh, fuck yes.” The angel feels himself tumble over the edge again, pulsating around Crowley’s fingers.

And again, the demon doesn’t stop-doesn’t even hesitate-just continues to fuck into his glorious angel with his fingers, lips sucking on his very erect clit. Aziraphale is trembling, but he forces himself to take the pleasure offered to him, wanting to be good for his Master. Because that is who Crowley is-the master of his pleasure, drawing out every sound and shudder with his masterful touches.

The third orgasm follows so soon after, the angel does sob. It’s not too much, but it is _so _much, the distinction being that instead of shoving Crowley away, he draws him in closer, hips moving on their own to grind down on the demon’s fingers and face. Crowley growls again, and Aziraphale recognizes his mistake as soon as the demon withdraws, sitting up. He whimpers and tries to form an apology, but the serpent strikes first, open palm hitting his soaking wet cunt.

It is white hot pain and pleasure so artfully entwined, the angel cannot even make a sound, his mouth just hanging open and eyes wide with shock.

“I’m feeling merciful, angel,” the demon says in his most sultry tone, “You know the rules. Apologize and promise you’ll obey, and we’ll continue without punishment.”

The angel’s brain has completely short-circuited. His mouth shuts and opens again dumbly, at complete loss for words, but desperately searching for them nonetheless. The demon grabs him by the jaw and scowls.

“Unless you _want_ to be punished,” he seethes, eyes flashing dangerously, “I suggest you comply.”

Finally Aziraphale finds his voice as it is commanded out of him. “I’m so sorry, Master. Please don’t punish me. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you. Whatever you want.”

“I want you to lay here and keep coming for me until you are actually incapable of it anymore.” Crowley’s response is low, and he leans in to kiss the angel’s jaw and neck and chest, moving to kiss, nip, suck, and bite at random. “Can you do that for me, angel? Can you just take everything I want to give you like a good boy?”

“Yes, yes please, Crowley.” The angel can feel himself sinking back into that blissful headspace where nothing else matters but obeying and being good for the demon. He purposefully relaxes every muscle in his body, hoping this will be enough to keep himself from reacting without his control any further. Punishment wasn’t the worse that could happen. It was disappointing Crowley that he absolutely could not stand.

Seeing his angel so blissed out already was too much. Crowley lined himself up and slowly pushed his cock inside Aziraphale. The angel moaned, eyes rolling in the back of his head, but he remained still. Even so, he can already feel his body want to react.

“Hold me down, please,” his voice is barely a whisper as the demon is fully sheathed inside him finally. With a smirk, Crowley acquiesces the request, hands holding fiercely onto the angel’s hips, sure to leave bruises, as he begins to fuck into him so slowly. It torturous for both of them, but he’s searching for that spot that’s sure to drive Aziraphale mad. Once he’s found it, it’s a good thing he’s got a hold of the angel’s hips. “Yes!” the moan rips from the angel, and despite all his attempts his body wants to writhe.

Crowley growls, holding even tighter, pressing harder, demonic strength keeping the angel in place as he pounds into him, angled just perfectly to hit that sweet spot inside the angel over and over. Before long the angel is a shuddering, whimpering mess, another orgasm rolling through him like a freight train, his whole body tensing up, before releasing spectacularly all over Crowley’s cock and lower abdomen.

Just like before, the demon continues, fucking against that spot just a little slower for a moment, allowing the angel to ride the waves of that powerful orgasm before taking him up again to another. He reaches in between them to touch the angel’s clit, his fingers gliding easily over it, spreading the wetness all around, fingertips circling and flicking in time with his thrusts, gradually gaining speed again.

He could fuck him like this for hours, holding him down, forcing out every cry of ecstasy, every shudder and moan. The one hand still on his hips, moves to the centre, hand splayed out from hip bone to hip bone, still pressing him harshly into the mattress and –fuck- he can feel his cock when it’s so deep inside him under his palm.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley moans his name breathlessly, and with it, the angel comes again. The demon stops touching his clit for moment and settles deep inside him, feeling his walls contract around his cock, hearing the angel gasp and moan helplessly.

“Crowley,” he says and his voice shakes just like the rest of his body, “Please.”

“Please what, angel?” He responds, leaning in to kiss the angel’s chest above his heart.

“More,” the single word wracks through both of their bodies violently.

“What more could you need?” Crowley asks, his voice even lower now.

Aziraphale doesn’t respond, but he whines, grinding his hips as best he can despite being held down.

Crowley hums before withdrawing completely, getting up and off the bed to stare down at his angel. “Do you want me to guess?”

The angel nods, missing the contact, but loving the way the demon is looking at him.

Another hum and Crowley has a hand on the angel’s cunt, rubbing it with at first his palm, then the back of his hand, spreading the immense wetness all over his hand, before plunging three fingers inside without warning. He barely gives him time to adjust before slowly pushing his pinkie inside as well, stretching him, twisting his wrist back and forth until he’s all the way to his knuckles.

“Oh, fuck,” Aziraphale moans. He’s never been filled like this and -judging by Crowley’s pace- it is far from over.

“Relax,” the demon purrs as he withdraws, gathering wetness on his hand again before plunging back inside him, this time adding his thumb.

The angel obeys, willing his body to let go of any tension, allowing himself to melt back into the mattress. Now that he knows exactly what Crowley is about to do, he can’t help but to picture it. Crowley’s _hand_ inside him. His perfect, gorgeous hand with the most exquisitely long fingers, all the way inside him. His whole body shudders again.

“Colour, angel?” Crowley asks before taking the final step.

“Green, Master. Please. I want this.” Aziraphale spreads his legs as wide as he can and even goes so far as to spread himself open with his hands, allowing the demon easier access, showing him just how much he wants this.

“Fuck,” Crowley moans, the sight of the angel completely opening up to him like this driving him mad. He pushes his hand inside so torturously slowly, sure to keep his angel from being injured, fingers curling into a fist as he’s completely enveloped. “Fuck, angel.” He moans again, staying as still as possible inside him, allowing him to adjust.

Aziraphale is silent. The pain and pleasure completely balanced inside him, mouth hanging open, breath panting, but no sound. It’s like he’s been transported, but he wants to _feel_. So, he releases his grip on his thighs where he had held himself open and reaches down with one hand to feel where they are joined.

“Oh, Crowley,” he sobs, overwhelmed with the feeling of it. This was new and he was overstimulated and as much as he was enjoying himself he also could hardly contain himself. Emotions that had been stifled for millennia came bubbling up. Never would he ever trust anyone like this. Never would he give himself to anyone like this. Never would he ever feel such immense pleasure with anyone else. Or immense love.

“Colour?” The demon croaks out, feeling very much the same in his own way.

“Green, my love,” Aziraphale sighs, “It’s just so much.”

Crowley tries not to think about the term of endearment and instead focuses on that tight, wet, heat around his hand and on the spot where Aziraphale still touches his wrist. “I want to move, angel. Just a little bit. Is that alright?”

“Just one more moment, please,” he responds, willing his body to relax again, and then he nods, “Ok. I’m ready.”

Crowley slowly moves his wrist, and they both moan in unison. Aziraphale is shocked to hear the demon enjoying this as much as he was. In the next moment, Crowley has lowered himself to suck on Aziraphale’s clit, wrist moving just a little faster. Aziraphale can feel himself falling apart, shattered from pleasure. This is what the demon had wanted. Mind blank, filled with nothing but feeling good. Every movement touches every pleasure spot inside him and each flick of the demon’s tongue sends shockwaves throughout his whole being.

The moan that escapes the angel is low and guttural, drawn from a part of him he didn’t even know existed. He can feel his wings unfurl and four new sets of eyes emerge as the sixth orgasm of the morning (afternoon? How much time had passed is completely lost on both of them.)

Crowley almost comes with Aziraphale. He hadn’t realized how much he had been enjoying this new sensation until he could feel the angel spasming around his hand and moaning like an animal, bringing his wings into this plane of existence and more of his angelic nature appearing. The demon withdraws so slowly, making Aziraphale moan and whimper, all eyes fluttering shut and then bursting open.

“I’m sorry, did I hurt you, angel?” Crowley asks, moving to kiss the set of eyes on Aziraphale’s cheekbones.

“Only a little. But I liked it.” The angel responds with a lovely smile. His whole body is glowing now- and not just from the sunlight. It was heavenly light and Crowley hadn’t seen the likes of such in millennia.

“Oh, angel,” he sighs into his lips, “You’re so beautiful.”

Aziraphale is still smiling, even as the kiss deepens. He breaks away after a moment to whisper. “I want to see you too.”

Crowley wrinkles his nose at this. “No, you don’t angel.”

“Please. I do. I want to see you as you are. As you are seeing me. Please. I’ll do anything.” The angel begs as he kisses all over the demon’s face.

This made Crowley smile devilishly. “You’re going to regret that,” he says smugly, and then the smile was gone. He closes his eyes and allows his body to change. Black scales spattered across his outer arms and thighs and hips and neck. Even some appeared along his hair and jaw lines. His eyes turned entirely yellow. His fangs extended even further and his forked tongue elongated. His dark wings unfurled behind him like a shadow. And finally, his perfectly long cock now had an exact replica alongside it.

The demon moves back to allow Aziraphale to see him. He didn’t find his demonic form attractive personally, but the angel looked at him with a look of hunger, especially when he eyes his groin. Crowley could almost see drool forming in the angel’s open mouth, the three sets of eyes on his face all half lidded with lust, heavenly light glowing even brighter.

“Oh, Crowley,” the angel moans his name, “I need you. Now. Please.”

Crowley’s smile has returned and Aziraphale glows brighter. “Already? You sure, angel?” His tone may be questioning, but already the demon is touching the angel’s cunt, fingers tracing up from his wet pink hole to his swollen and throbbing clit, moving the wetness all around. He withdraws his hand only to line up his left cock with the angel’s opening, pressing in easily.

“I’m more than ready. I want all of you inside me, please.” Aziraphale is almost completely out of control and it is apparent if he wanted to reverse their roles, Crowley could not stop him if he wanted to. So, Crowley releases some of his own control and as he pulls back to align his other cock to plunge inside the angel, he allows him to grind his hips finally.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, angel,” He breathes the words as he slowly sinks into that tight wetness with a gasp. The demon takes a deep breath and releases it with a long moan afterwards as Aziraphale grinds his hips against him, buttocks flush against his thighs.

The angel had thought he was mindless before, but now he was so completely blissed out he couldn’t focus on anything except chasing his pleasure. He was thankful the demon allowed him to move finally, because there was no way he could control his body any more. And as such, he somehow found himself leaning forward to capture Crowley’s lips in a passionate kiss, now seated on his lap. This was his favourite position he decided. So full, so deep, and also slow dirty kisses? Perfection.

“Heaven has nothing on you,” Aziraphale breathed. Their rhythm was so slow, just grinding against each other, taking a moment between kisses to speak briefly. “All I want is you, my dear.”

Crowley is barely hanging on, the angel’s words like an electric shock. “It’s Heaven inside you, angel. Look at its light pouring from you. You are Heaven.” His voice is ragged as he struggles to keep his demonic desires in check.

The angel senses this. “Don’t hold back. I won’t break.”

The demon knows this-knows how strong his angel really is. Words are impossible now as he lets himself go, moving inhumanly fast to pin the angel against the wall by the head of the bed, lifting him up by his arse, fingers digging into the flesh there. He sinks his fangs into the other’s neck as he begins his brutal pace, pounding into him without mercy, mindlessly chasing his own pleasure.

Aziraphale reaches between them to touch himself, moaning in pain and pleasure, already so close again. He’s so full, both of Crowley’s cocks moving so perfectly inside him, filling him completely. He can almost hear the demon chanting _mine_ as he takes him so forcefully, bringing him once more to the brink of mindless pleasure.

“Crowley,” his voice cracks, “I’m so close, please.”

Finally, the demon releases the angel’s neck, blood dripping down his chin, eyes so yellow there’s hardly any pupils left. He changes his angle, searching for only a brief moment before Aziraphale cries out, unable to articulate, but Crowley knows what he’s saying with his head thrown back in pleasure, hand moving furiously over his clit. _Right there!_

Once again he pounds into him, not planning to stop until he himself is fully satiated.

The seventh orgasm that is ripped from the angel doesn’t seem to end. Crowley keeps fucking him in that same glorious spot over and over despite the scream he knows is his own, but somehow isn’t. Each thrust washing another wave of pleasure through him. He can’t tell if he just keeps coming over and over or if it’s all the same long rapturous release.

“Come with me, Aziraphale,” Crowley commands, his voice not much more than a low hiss, demonic form taking over.

Aziraphale whimpers. “I- I don’t think I can- again.”

“For me? You said I could have anything.” He moves one of his hands to replace the angel’s, long fingers moving so perfectly against his over sensitive clit. “Please come with me, angel.”

Divine light blinds them both as they reach nirvana together, waves and waves of pleasure crashing over them. Vaguely somewhere in reality, Aziraphale can feel himself being filled to the brim with Crowley’s come and his cunt is so eagerly pulling it all in, spasming almost painfully around him. But their minds are so far away, somewhere in a soft desert sea, lying in the clouds, held aloft by their wings.


End file.
